Monday, August 31, 2009

My youth was a loud, rambunctious playWith a boisterous cast of parents, teachers, palsWho stood across the footlights of my stageOr sometimes simply waited in the wingsof my growing up –

Skip Halfpenny, the scamp whom teachers lovedTo scold, And Martha Johnson, whose parentsDidn’t seem to like her very much.My mother said it was because they were afraid -They’d had four children, only two remained.

Mr, Stewart led the orchestra and band, and we were good!He called on us to do more than we couldHe taught us the mathematical reality thatThe whole, in orchestra, and perhaps in life,Is often greater than its parts. We learned it playing Rimsky-Korsakov.